


unfading, immortal daze

by rintaroumance



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Guess who, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, an appreciation for sakusa's thighs, atsumu gets railed, no beta we die like glenn fe3h, one of them is a vampire, yes they are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28647711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rintaroumance/pseuds/rintaroumance
Summary: it would take kiyoomi this lifetime and the next to find his way out of the maze that is miya atsumu
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 131





	unfading, immortal daze

**Author's Note:**

> weeee it's been a hot minute since i posted something. anyways, here's the vampire fic i promised a couple of people! also, miss ember -- who is ever so patient with me -- consider this a late birthday present hehe, i lov u °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° 
> 
> this cursed idea wouldn't leave my mind until i wrote it and here we are. hope you enjoy ٩(♡ε♡)۶
> 
> also, here's a playlist!

_I want him to kiss me,_ Kiyoomi thinks and immediately feels a deep rooted anger fester up inside of himself.

He lets it burn hot within his chest, under his skin and makes patterns dance behind his closed eyes as his back meets the plushness of the duvet beneath him. The night is warm, just like Kiyoomi’s feverish skin and the breeze that creeps in through the window that’s been left ajar does little to cool what simmers around them.

When his eyes open Atsumu stares back at him with a hungry gaze and a devilish smirk. He runs his tongue along the curve of his bottom lip and Kiyoomi catches a glimpse of the sharp point of his fangs — and the cursed thought returns. _I want him to kiss me._

Astute as ever, Atsumu tilts his head and leans into Kiyoomi’s space as if he belongs there. “You’re looking at me.” His voice is like honey, sticky-sweet and rich.

“I do have eyes.”

“Mhm, i know that. But you’re lookin’ at me like ya want to _kiss_ me.” He’s smug, tone accusatory.

Kiyoomi grumbles and looks away. “Absolutely not.”

A fresh wave os something akin to anger wells up inside of him when Atsumu laughs like he’s got Kiyoomi all figured out—except that he does—which is equally as infuriating, and it claws at Kiyoomi’s insides and up his throat.

It seems that Atsumu is particularly starved tonight, hungry for something more than his usual fill. He works his way down Kiyoomi’s neck with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that make his head spin. The ghost of Atsumu’s touch lingers at Kiyoomi’s side, under his shirt, up the plane of his stomach, only to rest at the cavity of his chest and he smirks into Kiyoomi’s neck; liking the way his heart races under his hand.

“Can we get this over with?” Kiyoomi huffs as he shies away from Atsumu’s palm, shooting daggers back at Atsumu’s gleeful expression with his eyes. “I have work to do.”

Atsumu has the audacity to pout. It’s _infuriating._ “But it’s so fun to play with you.”

“You’re annoying,” he replies, too fond for his own liking. “Hurry up then.” And then he falls back, anticipation thick in his veins.

Like an apparition, Atsumu looms over him. His stupid, blonde hair falls into his eyes and Kiyoomi can’t help but push it away from his face. Atsumu keens into his touch and pushes his cheek into Kiyoomi’s palm. Then, his mouth to Kiyoomi’s wrist, feeling the steady beat of his pulse under his lips. It’s a disgustingly tender act of intimacy, one that Kiyoomi will never admit to liking. There are times like this, where Atsumu seems to be more human than Kiyoomi ever will be.

The moment is ruined when Atsumu nips at his wrist with his teeth grazing over Kiyoomi’s skin just hard enough to make him jolt. It earns him a glare, but if anything, Atsumu looks nothing but triumphant — always keen to get under Kiyoomi’s skin and loving when he can get a reaction out of him.

With a frown Kiyoomi pinches at Atsumu’s cheek before flicking him between the eyes. He ignores the— _hey!_ —he gets in response and sighs when Atsumu rubs at the spot with a hiss.

“That hurt. Mean, Omi-kun.”

“It was supposed to hurt, you’re taking too long.”

“Tch. impatient.”

“Says you.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes and now it’s his turn to brush Kiyoomi’s hair out of his face. “Yeah, yeah.”

Kiyoomi cradles Atsumu’s face in his hands, lost and drunk in a lustful stupor that makes everything rose coloured. The melodious sound of Atsumu’s hum is light and airy when it reaches his ears. He sounds pleased, content in letting Kiyoomi feel him. Here, Atsumu is under his spell. Quiet and Willing.

His eyes flutter shut when Kiyoomi smooths his thumbs over the swell of his cheeks. Long gone is his piercing gaze, and something more peaceful takes its place. Kiyoomi stares for a long while, admiring the blush that stains Atsumu’s cheeks, the shadow of his lashes against his skin. He’s so fond and tries to smother the feeling as quickly as it comes. He’s unsuccessful because like this he’s at Atsumu’s mercy.

“Wanna kiss me yet?”

“No.”

The blazing trail of Kiyoomi’s touch reaches Atsumu’s jaw. _Curse this mouth_ , he thinks when he drags his thumb long and hard against Atsumu’s bottom lip. When Kiyoomi prods at the seam, it’s hard to miss the slight stutter of Atsumu’s inhale, the way the fire in his eyes burns with more ferocity. He doesn’t miss the smirk that pulls at Atsumu lips, either.

Atsumu opens his mouth wide enough so that he can lick at Kiyoomi’s finger and Kiyoomi—unable to resist—let's Atsumu take his fingers into his mouth.

Kiyoomi runs them across Atsumu’s tongue and along his teeth before he presses the pad of his finger to the tip of one of Atsumu’s fangs just hard enough to burn, but not hard enough to break skin. There’s something hot and heavy in the air that makes Kiyoomi’s head a little hazy. But then Atsumu, the bastard, bites down onto Kiyoomi’s finger.

It’s a sharp, acute pain that makes him hiss. His initial reaction is to jerk his hand away, maybe kick Atsumu in the face. But Atsumu soothes the wound with his tongue, then with his mouth.

He sucks at Kiyoomi’s fingers in veiled innocence, and causes another shiver to run up Kiyoomi’s spine when he runs his teeth over the knobs of his knuckles. It’s absolutely lewd and obscene and yet, he can’t help but be fascinated at the way Atsumu’s teeth sharpen to a point.

The flutter of Atsumu’s lashes is delicate and jarring in many ways. He’s an absolute menace, his regrowth is long and ugly, and there’s razor burn along his jaw but it still doesn’t deter the fact that he is very handsome. Even like this, with Kiyoomi’s fingers in his mouth, wishing it were something else.

Kiyoomi’s voice is gruff, his breathing heavy. “Atsumu.”

Atsumu looks at him, eyes blown out and hazy. Beautiful. When Kiyoomi withdraws his fingers from Atsumu’s lips, he tries to nip at his fingertips once more, laughing when he’s unsuccessful.

“Hm?”

His eyes glow light refracting sunlight, beautiful and captivating as he holds kiyoomi’s gaze—challenging and unrelenting, just like wildfire they carry the same heat. There's something else there, too. Slivers of something red and sinister, like the blood he needs to survive. There’s a carnal, primal hunger that only Kiyoomi alone can sate.

Something hot and bright burns in Kiyoomi’s chest. It builds slowly, and erupts at once like the break of fireworks against the sky when he says it: “Kiss me.”

Atsumu wastes no time in pinning Kiyoomi’s hands over his head and caging him against the bed. There’s a triumphant smirk on his lips, an _I win_ in his eyes and eagerness in his touch. He parts Kiyoomi lips with his tongue and grins when Kiyoomi lets him.

There’s static where Atsumu touches him, kisses him—driving his tongue into Kiyoomi’s mouth like he’s got a point to prove. When his eyes flutter open, Atsumu hovers over him, looking at him like he’s worth more than he is. Like something valuable, desirable; a rarity for his eyes only. Like he’s a little in love and in over his head.

Kiyoomi supposes he is in love with Atsumu, too. It’s something he’s thought about a lot; in the moments before sleep takes him and when he’s alone. It’s something he can’t really articulate, but he’s come to the conclusion that he would give everything up and spend the rest of eternity with Atsumu if he asked.

“Mind tellin’ me what you’re thinkin’ about so intensely there?”

“Nothing,” Kiyoomi replies with a slight shake of his head.

“Always so serious.” Atsumu cocks a grin and huffs out a laugh. It softens his features, the sheer innocence of it contrasts what they’re both thinking about. He leans back in to kiss the tip of Kiyoomi’s nose. “Relax, Omi-kun, it’ll be good for ya.”

Kiyoomi lets out a _hmph_ in response, despite the flutter in his chest. With one final kiss to his lips, Atsumu finally gets the ball rolling.

He slides down Kiyoomi’s body, shimmies him out of his sweatpants until he’s rendered down to his shirt and underwear. Kiyoomi lies back, staring a little dazed back at Atsumu who is still fully clothed and still hungry for him.

Atsumu lies on his stomach and hooks Kiyoomi’s left knee over his shoulder. He pushes at Kiyoomi’s thighs to keep them open as he gets comfortable and settles between them. And Kiyoomi _should_ be embarrassed when he thinks about how Atsumu looks like he belongs there.

_I hate him._

“Hey there,” Atsumu says with a lopsided smile. His cheek is pressed flush against Sakusa’s bare thigh and it's becoming increasingly hard to think.

Kiyoomi grunts in response, pondering the pros and cons of how tempting it is to crush Atsumu's head between his thighs. Although, part of his mind is convinced that atsumu would thoroughly enjoy it. He watches Atsumu’s expression, brows knitting together when Atsumu meets his gaze.

 _I hate him_ , his thoughts echo. “Come on,” he says instead. “Hurry up.”

Atsumu replies with a muffled hum against his skin. The vibrations cause a short burst of electricity to shoot up his spine. It’s followed by a brief, chaste kiss that Atsumu presses to his inner thigh. He doesn’t meet Kiyoomi’s eyes as he begins to open his mouth.

The glint of Atsumu’s fangs catches his attention first, then the descent, and then finally the pain.

Despite everything, and all the times they’ve done this in the past, it still catches Kiyoomi by surprise and he hisses when Atsumu’s fangs pierce through his skin. He wrings his fingers in the sheets once before running them through Atsumu’s bleached hair and _pulls._ It’s hardly a punishment since they both know that Atsumu likes the pain, the slight burn and the tingling aftermath.

An appreciative noise escapes Atsumu’s lips, he briefly pulls away from Kiyoomi’s thigh to peer up at him. “You can do better than that,” he challenges. “I can take it.”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes but let’s out a gasp when Atsumu resumes his work. And not being one to disappoint, he pulls at Atsumu’s hair a fraction harder, liking the way that Atsumu grips at his skin in response.

He tries to relax so that Atsumu can take his fill because being tense helps neither of them. When his eyes fall shut, everything amplifies. The whir of the electric fan is loud in Kiyoomi’s ears, the cool air not quite reaching them. Instead, he feels the flush of his skin, Atsumu’s mouth on his body, and the slow, traitorous swell of arousal in his gut that he wants to put out.

If it were any other instance, he would have let Atsumu feed from his neck, but with a work conference at the end of the week he can’t afford to take any chances. But, maybe he should have.

There’s something incredibly intimate about feeding from the inner thigh that Kiyoomi can’t quite place his finger on. Perhaps it’s the way Atsumu wrestles his thighs open and anchors him in a position that makes him feel incredibly bare, or maybe it’s how he chooses to bite and feed in an area that’s _incredibly_ close to his crotch. Regardless, it’s secretly one of Kiyoomi’s preferred locations. He wouldn’t tell Atsumu that—he doesn’t need any more leverage in having the upper hand.

But then it begins to feel like it’s too much. Kiyoomi finds that his shirt is suffocating, and peels it off only to collapse back against the bed. His chest heaves, one hand into Atsumu’s hair and the other wrung into the sheets by his hip.

He pries his eyes open and Atsumu is there, between his legs, looking absolutely wrecked with mussed hair and blood a little past his lips. Kiyoomi can smell it, too, the distinct and familiar smell of something wet and rusty; sees the colour of it against Atsumu’s pale skin. He’s going to go insane.

And, _oh_ , Atsumu is insufferable. Kiyoomi doesnt understand how Atsumu can make something as essential as _feeding_ borderline erotic. He throws an arm over his eyes, refusing to look at Atsumu any longer. He kneads at Kiyoomi’s other thigh with his free hand. He's a horrible tease and knows _exactly_ what he's doing.

He gets more bold with his blatant groping, smirking at Kiyoomi skin when his breath hitches. electricity sparks under his skin when Atsumu’s fingers graze over his crotch—and he’s left breathless once more.

“Aren't you being a little too eager?” Kiyoomi asks despite the colour high on his cheeks. He ignores his laboured breathing in favour of narrowing his eyes and glaring at Atsumu.

“Perhaps,” he begins, tongue darting back out yo swipe over his bottom lip, looking at kiyoomi like he's something to devour. “I’m greedy. And you taste _good_.”

“That’s filthy.”

“You like it.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re too much of a coward to admit that you like me, Omi-kun.”

“Go die.”

“Can’t, I’m already—”

“Shut up—”

“—dead.”

Kiyoomi drags his hands over his face with a groan and Atsumu’s laugh is distant until it isn’t. He crawls up Sakusa’s body and kisses at his torso before licking into his mouth. The taste of metal—blood—against his tongue is absolutely absurd, but the feeling of having Atsumu moan into his mouth is far more appetising.

Kiyoomi’s head is underwater, swimming in a hazy sea of lust. He holds his breath when Atsumu squeezes him through his boxers, fingers grazing down the length of his shaft with purpose. He becomes angry, frustrated by Atsumu’s shirt getting in the way of them being skin to skin so he pushes Atsumu back to pull it off and decides that this is much better. He takes a moment to admire the pink flush of Atsumu’s skin and wants to taste it for himself.

Atsumu’s skin is hot under his tongue. Kiyoomi feels him swallow under his lips and they sigh in unison when their mouths find each other again. Minutes go by, but they’ve lost track of time. Too lost in each other to notice. When they part, Kiyoomi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before reaching around and grabbing a handful of Atsumu’s ass.

“Wanna ride you, Kiyoomi,” Atsumu pants. His breath is hot and wet. “Wanna feel ya inside of me.”

Sakusa’s moan fails to die in his throat and escapes his clenched teeth in a pathetic, desperate whine. His eyes and blood are set ablaze—hot and searing as he tears his gaze from Atsumu’s kiss bitten lips to the glazed look in his eyes. He sees himself there, in the deep, blown out pools of Atsumu’s irises and shudders.

“Come on then,” he says. “Come here, Atsumu. Let me feel you.”

They move in haste, scrambling up and back against the headboard. The last bits of their clothing are discarded and thrown to the floor and the blankets are kicked to the end of the bed as they stare at each other—Atsumu admiring Kiyoomi’s beauty, and Kiyoomi wanting Atsumu so bad that it drives him crazy.

The headboard is cool against Kiyoomi’s back. He tilts his head back to stare up at Atsumu who straddles his lap and smiles down at him in a way that’s far too tender. With a gentle touch he cups Sakusa’s face and kisses him.

It’s easy to get lost in Atsumu. His kisses leave Kiyoomi intoxicated and chasing for more—until he’s messy and desperate. He feels Atsumu against him, feel sthe tremble of his own name whispered into his ears and Atsumu’s feverish hands wanting _more._

It’s Kiyoomi who relents first and feels at the bedspread, impatient. Although he's incredibly distracted, he finds what he’s looking for scattered along the bedspread and beneath the pillows. He grips the bottle of lubricant but doesn’t move, paralysed by Atsumu’s sinful mouth but when he eventually finds the condom wrapper. The sound of the foil crinkling has Atsumu’s breath hitching.

He moves to sit back on his hunches, lips parted and eyes wild. He snatches the wrapper from Kiyoomi’s hand, ripping it open with his teeth with a smirk before trading it for the lubricant.

Kiyoomi is entranced. Atsumu as he dribbles the lubricant on his fingers, only to reach behind himself. His gasps are soft, the twitch in his brow ever so slight as he works himself open. He rocks back onto his fingers, his free hand splayed at Kiyoomi’s chest to steady himself.

It’s hard to look away. So he doesn’t. Instead, he studies Atsumu’s face, whispering soft words of encouragement into the space between them. Praising him, “You’re doing so well Atsumu,” he says. “You’re so needy for it,” he mumbles against Atsumu’s clavicles.

“For you,” he gets in response. “Always you—”

He feels the need to kiss Atsumu again. This time he doesn’t fight the feeling and swallows Atsumu’s moans with his tongue. He reaches down to feel where Atsumu’s fingers disappear inside himself. Kiyoomi feels his cock stir, flexing up against his abdomen. Atsumu doesn’t notice, too immersed in Kiyoomi’s hungry gaze to focus on anything else.

“You just gonna tease me or are ya gonna put you gonna put your fingers in me?”

Kiyoomi replies with a hum before circling his fingers around Atsumu’s wrist to pull his fingers out on himself. The sound is lewd, the wet squelch of lubricant drives Kiyoomi insane. He inhales sharply when he pushes in with two fingers.

“Tight…” he mumbles into the space between them. Atsumu nods despite their foreheads being pressed together, too caught up in everything to reply.

He takes his time to work Atsumu open until he’s begging for it. It doesn’t take long, either. He begins to crumble when holds him still and curls his fingers, shuddering when Kiyoomi whispers teasing words into his ears.

“If you’re already this wrecked from my hand, what more when you get the real thing?”

“Then give it to me,” Atsumu hisses. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

Impatient, Atsumu rolls the condom down Kiyoomi’s cock and he’s beautiful on his knees, hovering over Kiyoomi’s erection like the tease he is. Strong thighs bracket him in, and the muscle of his thighs ripple under Kiyoomi’s appreciative touch.

Atsumu reaches back and circles his fingers around Kiyoomi’s shaft and pumps him once, twice, before sinking down. The descent is slow and torturous. Kiyoomi’s hands find Atsumu’s waist, nails digging into his skin as he breathes harshly through his nose as Atsumu rolls his hips forward.

It's rather pretty—the way Atsumu’s composure shatters. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, fangs threatening to pierce through his own skin as he lashes flutter against his cheeks. He rises and falls in Kiyoomi’s lap, hands perched on broad shoulders as he lets his head hang back.

Something comes over him, it drives him forward until his lips meet Atsumu’s neck. Perhaps its sheer curiosity, maybe it’s something more but there’s little time to unpack Kiyoomi’s train of thought when he lets his jaw run slack only to bite into Atsumu’s neck.

It takes both of them by surprise. Atsumu clenches around him, a broken moan ending with Kiyoomi’s name fizzles into the air. The bite is not hard enough to draw blood, but Kiyoomi sucks at Atsumu’s neck as if it had.

Atsumu’s neck is a mess by the end of it, red and splotchy with teeth marks toward his jugular. Kiyoomi then looks down at the bite marks Atsumu has left on his skin and it haunts him, reminding him of where he and his heart belong.

Kiyoomi reaches between them. He smears the precome that’s at the slit of Atsumu’s cock with his fingers, liking the way Atsumu shivers against him, hands trembling at his shoulders. His moans are pretty. Long drawn and raspy. Kiyoomi’s name uttered in a drunken slur.

“You’re... beautiful, Atsumu.”

Atsumu’s eyes open then. There’s a fleeting smirk on his lips that vanishes as quickly as it came. He lets his eyes close again. “Flattery will get you nowhere Omi-kun. But- _ah-_ you’re not too bad on the eyes yourself.”

He wonders if Atsumu would want to look at him forever, and saves the question for a later date.

As much as Kiyoomi likes this position, he doesn’t. He wants to ruin Atsumu in the best of ways. So he moves them quickly, catching Atsumu off guard by pushing him on to his back so he can fuck Atsumu hard and quick, just like he wants.

Kiyoomi drives his hips forward like a punishment. Atsumu is suffocating in all ways: his legs snake around Kiyoomi’s slender waist, arms looping around his neck, breath hot and wet in Kiyoomi’s ears—his name is a mantra on Atsumu’s lips.

There are tell tale signs that signal that Atsumu is going to come, and Kiyoomi’s had more than enough time to memorise all of them. The first is the tremble in his fingers, the grip in Kiyoomi’s hair becomes sloppy and he rakes down Kiyoomi’s back haphazardly, blunt nails leaving pain in their wake. He mouths at Kiyoomi’s lips rather than kissing them, desperate to be close and unwilling to let go. Then there's the begging.

“Please,” he whines. “Please, I need you- I need to…”

“I know,” Kiyoomi soothes. He presses a tender kiss to Atsumu’s sweaty forehead as he wraps a hand around Atsumu’s cock.

Atsumu moans loudly. Tears coat his lashes like jewels. He really is beautiful. Kiyoomi verbalises his thoughts but is unsure if Atsumu can hear him. It doesn’t matter, nothing does at this moment other than driving Atsumu over the edge.

When Kiyoomi drags his thumb over the slit of Atsumu’s cock everything comes crashing down. Atsumu has never been quiet. It’s not in his nature. He comes with a shout, unsure whether he wants to push Kiyoomi away or drag him closer as he releases over his stomach and up his chest. It’s hot and pretty against his pink-flushed skin, and seeing Atsumu’s fucked out expression alone is enough to make Kiyoomi come.

He quickly pulls out of Atsumu and fucks into his hand, until he spills into the condom. He’s still a little dazed and Atsumu’s eyes are still a little hazy. There’s a passing thought in his mind that screams at him to change the sheets. Instead he collapses onto his side next to Atsumu and they stare at the ceiling.

Kiyoomi is tired. Sleep threatens to take him, but he can’t sleep like this. He’s quick to become restless and runs a hand through his hair. Annoyance prickles at his consciousness, suddenly very aware of the sweat that clings to his skin and the smell of sex in the air.

“Hey.” The sound of Atsumu’s voice is grounding. It’s a little raw. He clears his throat. “Wanna shower?”

“Yeah.”

Atsumu sings in the shower. He’s singing now. It’s a song that Kiyoomi doesn’t know, but there’s something oddly beautiful about Atsumu’s lack of pitch and rehearsed ad libs. He hears glimpses of the lyrics over the rush of water that cascades over them, something about love, something about forever. Their body wash smells like jasmine and green tea.

Once they’re towelled off and the sheets are changed, Atsumu smears lotion across Kiyoomi’s face and rubs it into his skin. Kiyoomi lets him and kisses at Atsumu’s fingers when they pass over his lips. Atsumu smiles then, warm like the sun in the dim lighting of their bedroom.

There are a lot of smells: their body wash, residual mint from brushing their teeth and fresh linen, When they settle into bed, Kiyoomi buries himself under the covers. He snakes his arms around Atsumu’s waist, face pressed into his stomach. He feels Atsumu’s practiced breathing—an attempt to appear human in front of unknowing eyes. Because of his nature, Atsumu doesn’t sleep, and Kiyoomi doesn’t know what he does in the time that he isn’t awake.

 _Forever_ , Kiyoomi thinks, lulled to sleep by the feeling of Atsumu’s fingers in his hair. Maybe one day he’ll have the chance to find out. _Forever would be nice._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! this is a lot shorter than the things i usually write but i wanted to get out of my comfort zone hehe. comments are appreciated! come find me on twitter if you want to chat ; - )))
> 
> 1 kudos = 1 swing at atsumu miya ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ ( IM JOKING. haha.... unless??)
> 
> will be working on more stuff soon <3
> 
> ☆[twitter](https://twitter.com/aceskeiji)☆


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